Lost Souls
by amber-goddess
Summary: Kurt Wagner visits church, musing on his religion and what it means to him...and forging a brief connection with Rogue in the process.


Disclaimer: Do I really need to go through this?? I own nothing, end of story.  
  
Authors note: I was typing up a chapter to my Evo Kurt and Rogue story when I started thinking about their canon equivalents, and lo, a new fic was born!  
  
I realize that both Kurt and Rogue may seem horribly out of character. Sorry. :s  
  
************************************************  
  
The church was deserted.  
  
Not surprising, Kurt thought, considering what the time was. All of the day's services had finished hours since and cold silver moonlight was shining in through the darkened windows. By all rights he supposed that he shouldn't have been there. It wasn't like he was a regular member of the congregation - for obvious reasons, people usually objected to his presence - and heavens knew he could have been using the time to fit in some much- needed training.  
  
Nevertheless...he felt in no particular hurry to leave.  
  
He visited the place often, though always after-hours and always when he knew that no one else would be around. A devote Catholic his entire life; the church had always been central to Kurt's existence. Even now, with things as hectic and confused as they were, it was still important to the young man that he had this time alone with his thoughts. Prayer provided him with a kind of clarity that he received nowhere else - the Lord's presence bringing a sense of peace to his oft troubled mind. It was his faith that guided him when all other hope seemed lost...his faith that gave him purpose and direction. The truth was, Kurt Wagner needed God in the same way that most people needed air. He couldn't live without it.  
  
His mind flicked briefly to the Catholic churches he had frequented back in his home country...back in Germany. Those had been an old stone building - all gothic arches and stained glass, built generations ago for the glory of the Lord. These American churches were not quite the same, he mused sadly. They were newer, brighter, the scent of the burning incense replaced by the sharp tang of new carpeting. But still, he supposed that some things were universal. Even in this comparatively new space, there was a kind of reverend silence that filled the atmosphere. He stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, letting the heavy quiet enshroud him.  
  
...If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the echoes of the choir back in Munich...  
  
A familiar serenity filled him suddenly, and, for the first time in a long time, he was at peace.  
  
He found himself drifting up the aisle, amber-colored gaze fixed ahead. At the end of his pew-lined path, a statue of the Virgin Mary watched his progress with benevolent plaster eyes. In her cold arms she held the infant Jesus, the baby's tiny hand raised in blessing. Kurt crossed himself as he passed the holy pair.  
  
Sitting down on a pew near the front of the church, he bowed his head, folding his three-fingered hands on his lap. The silence continued to weigh down solemnly around him, flickering candlelight casting a dream-like haze over his dark fur. For a moment he was silent.  
  
Ahh...silence.  
  
Silence was something he did not something that he had enjoyed much of recently. As much as he loved the X-Men, his chosen vocation in life did not leave much time for quiet contemplation. There was always someone yelling...something exploding...some gun blasting. There were times that he felt like his head was going to explode from all the noise. That was why he needed this time alone, away from the X-Men. He just needed to take a step back from it all, before it smothered him whole.  
  
He allowed his eyelids to slowly drift closed, lips moving as he recited a quiet prayer. The hushed words were almost soundless in the cool night air.  
  
"Uns Vader," he whispered, "De is in Himmel. Heiliget is dien Naam. Dien Riek sall komen. Dien Will doch doon, up Welt as dat is in Himmel. Gäv uns dis Dag uns dagliks Brod. Un vergäv uns uns Schuld, as wi vergäven uns Schuldners. Un bring uns nich in Versuchung. Aber spaar uns van de Übel. Denn dien is dat Riek un de Kraft un de Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit. Amen."  
  
The prayer ended and Kurt remained motionless. He breathed steadily through slightly parted lips, hands still clasped reverently before him. He was somewhere else at that moment...somewhere far away...  
  
"Ah have no idea what you said just then, but it sure sounded pretty."  
  
The softly spoken words startled him back to reality. Opening his eyes, he was suddenly startled to find that he was not alone in the church.  
  
"Rogue," he greeted, more than a little surprised by the woman's presence, "I did not hear you come in."  
  
She gave a weary smile and shrugged. "Ah can be real quiet when ah want." Hesitating slightly, she gestured questioningly to the empty seat beside him. "Mind if ah join you?"  
  
He shook his head and shifted over to give her more room. "Not at all. Pull up a pew."  
  
"Thanks sugar."  
  
The young man watched in silence as she moved to sit beside him, one slender leg crossing over the other, arms folding self-consciously over her chest. She flashed him a quick smile and then turned away, staring, like him, at the plaster Madonna standing nearby. Neither said anything for a long moment as they each lapsed into private thought.  
  
"Kurt?"  
  
He stirred at the sound of her voice. "Hm?"  
  
"Why do you come here?"  
  
His furred brow contorted in a questioning look. "Vas?"  
  
The southern belle sighed quietly and bowed her head, eyes dim and unfocused. "Why do you come here, Kurt?"  
  
Kurt watched her carefully, not knowing what to say. The question was an unusual one - Rogue had certainly never questioned him on his religion before now - and he was momentarily at a loss for an appropriate answer. She continued to look down and he took the opportunity to study her more closely. She looked tired...more tired then perhaps he had ever seen her previously. Her shoulders sagged forward as though bearing some terrible weight, and there were lines under her eyes that he had never noticed before.  
  
Even after all these years of working on the same team, Rogue remained something of an enigma to Kurt. She was a bit of a mystery to everyone, he supposed...the only obvious exceptions being perhaps Remy and Professor Xavier. Oh, he had spoken to her in and around the Institute, of course, and she had always struck him as a beautiful and courageous young woman. But there had always been a kind of distance between them...as though somewhere along the line they had forgotten to make the vital leap from being mere team mates to being friends. Strange.  
  
At that moment he regretted not having made more of an effort to get to know her better. She looked so...so vulnerable. He never would have guessed that someone with Rogue's apparent confidence and strength could process such child-like frailty.  
  
He wished he knew something that he could say to make her feel better.  
  
...Who do you come here, Kurt?...  
  
"I come here...I come because this is the only place vhere I can find peace," he murmured quietly after a beat, turning his amber-eyed gaze back to the holy Mary.  
  
Rogue said nothing for a long moment. The church's heavy quiet settled around them once more, the heat from the numerous candles flickering and uncertain in the cool night air.  
  
"Yeah," she whispered finally. "Me too."  
  
Neither said anything after that. There was nothing else to say.  
  
They sat in silence, lost to the still tranquility of the church, and though they said nothing, each drew a great deal of comfort from the other's presence.  
  
...At some point during the evening, their gloved hands met and clasped.  
  
*************************************************** 


End file.
